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Monday, September 29, 2014

One of my
favorite joys in life is discovering a new author. I imagine a few of you might
agree. It starts when you open the cover and dive into the first pages (or listen or
scroll). You hope for carefully chosen words, carved into lovely or
snappy or funny (or all three) sentences, one after the other until you are
hooked. A smile curves your lips. “Yes, this is going to be good.”

But just
because an author is a genius on the page doesn’t mean that author can deliver
an engaging talk. It’s not a requirement, surely, but I’m wowed by those who
can do both. I can’t count the number of author talks I’ve been to—I was just
browsing my wide shelf of autographed books yesterday—but I’m awed when a
speaker emulates the perfect combination of charm, humor and modesty.

Robin Sloan at RROB

Last week Elizabeth and I went to Richardson Reads One Book, featuring Robin Sloan's Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. In my opinion, as far as cool
writers go, Robin Sloan is right up there with Jamie Ford and Chris Cleave.

Sloan is a
rare combination of techie and bibliophile, interested in the concept of “media
inventor,” which he describes as “someone primarily interested in content
(words, pictures, ideas) who also experiments with new formats, new tools, and
new technology. The paperback pioneer Allen Lane was a media inventor. Early
bloggers were media inventors. The indie video game scene is full of
media inventors.”

Sloan
suggests that technology is not an intruder or interloper into the book world, but that it’s been
there all along. He described his visit to the Grolier Club, New York City's exclusive group
of rare book collectors, where he got to see in person the types of books he
had researched and written into Mr. Penumbra’s story. His novel includes a
fictional book published by Aldus Manutius, the 15th-century
publisher who Sloan considers a pioneer in technology. Manutius, concerned with
user experience, published the first small books. Before then, books were too
large for laps, meant to be read from lecterns. Sloan considers Manutius’s new
format as unique and high-tech as an iPhone.

Read his
explanation of the concept of flip-flop, “the process of pushing a work of art
or craft from the physical world to the digital world and back again—maybe
more than once.”

As a former
Twitter employee, it’s fitting that the idea for Sloan's book was sparked by a
friend’s Twitter feed:

He wrote a
short story and from there, the novel, published by Farrar,Straus and Giroux. As someone who’s crazy for bookstores and libraries (hello Bodleian), I added the book to my TBR immediately. But contrary to Sloan’s understanding, not everyone in the Richardson audience had read his book. That night I downloaded his book and after reading the first page, I smiled. “Yes, this is good.” It’s also charming, humorous and unpretentious, just like its author. If you haven’t read it, you should.

From the publisher's website:

The Great Recession has shuffled Clay Jannon
out of his life as a San Francisco Web-design drone—and serendipity, sheer
curiosity, and the ability to climb a ladder like a monkey has landed him a new
gig working the night shift at Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. But after just
a few days on the job, Clay begins to realize that this store is even more
curious than the name suggests. There are only a few customers, but they come
in repeatedly and never seem to actually buy anything, instead “checking out”
impossibly obscure volumes from strange corners of the store, all according to
some elaborate, long-standing arrangement with the gnomic Mr. Penumbra. The
store must be a front for something larger, Clay concludes, and soon he’s
embarked on a complex analysis of the customers’ behavior and roped his friends
into helping to figure out just what’s going on. But once they bring their
findings to Mr. Penumbra, it turns out the secrets extend far outside the walls
of the bookstore.

With irresistible brio and dazzling intelligence, Robin Sloan has crafted a
literary adventure story for the twenty-first century, evoking both the
fairy-tale charm of Haruki Murakami and the enthusiastic novel-of-ideas
wizardry of Neal Stephenson or a young Umberto Eco, but with a unique and
feisty sensibility that’s rare to the world of literary fiction. Mr.
Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore is exactly what it sounds like: an
establishment you have to enter and will never want to leave, a modern-day
cabinet of wonders ready to give a jolt of energy to every curious reader, no
matter the time of day.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

If you're like me, you avoid conflict at all costs. You see someone at Target you'd rather not speak to, and you dash over to another aisle and head the opposite direction. You exchange terse words with your spouse, and you conveniently find another room in the house to hang out in for a couple hours until the tide shifts. As sensitive human beings, we tend to avoid conflict, but as writers, we have to learn to embrace it for the sake of the story.

My girl had a homework assignment last week. She had to write a few paragraphs and part of the instructions included making sure the story had conflict. She asked me to read through it and then we had a long talk about the conflict missing between two best friends, hanging out on a gazebo roof talking about how they spent their summer apart. "Where's the conflict?" I asked. She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, what is it these two girls want?"

"They want to be themselves," she said.

"Who is keeping them from being themselves?" I asked.

"The popular girls."

"Why would the popular girls care about them?"

"They just do," she said.

And then we talked about true conflict, and I tried to boil it down as simply as I could. Conflict = someone wanting something and an outside force (e.g, person, elements, situations, disease, poverty) is keeping them from it. Conflict in a story also paves the way for a character to step forward and save the day--maybe the main character, maybe someone else.

So we talked about books she had read. Harry Potter, Wonder, The Hunger Games. What did the character want and who/what kept him or her from getting it? It's as simple as that and yet we sometimes struggle to put our characters through the battle. Suppose Harry Potter had been this beloved boy wizard who was the star of Hogwarts and no one ever tried to stop him from being the best student ever to cross the threshold. No Lord Voldemort. No Draco Malfoy. No Dursleys. How many pages of that story would you want to read? Probably not very many.

My first manuscript suffered from a case of conflict deficiency, and even though I attempted to put my two main characters through a series of tests, I never made them too uncomfortable. I mother-loved them so much, I couldn't bear to make them unhappy. Boring stuff that went on for 80,000+ words.
The manuscript I'm writing now is different and not nearly as easy to write. No one is very happy. The marriage is failing. The teenagers are being forced to make grown-up, life-changing decisions. Quite honestly, I find it difficult to see them suffer. But, unlike an early reader, I know where I THINK these people will end up. And while I don't have to wrap it up with "And they all lived happily ever after," I do have to write a resolution. The characters need to have come out on the other side as changed individuals whose lives will go on to even new conflicts. It's up to me, the writer, to guide them through it but not shield them from it.

Yesterday I finished reading Defending Jacobby William Landay--a wonderful story filled with conflict and twists and turns. You should read it. For other books with conflict abounding, I'd recommend Wildby Cheryl Strayed, Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn, The Giver by Lois Lowry, to name a few. You don't have to read mysteries, sci-fi or any genre that's heavy on action to experience conflict. It should be present in every story including Charlotte's Web. What does Wilbur want? To live to be an old pig. Who's keeping him from it? The farmer who raised him for his meat. What role would Charlotte play in the story if there is no conflict for Wilbur? She's just an old spider in a dirty barn. The conflict allows her to step forward as a heroine to save 'Some Pig' so Wilbur can see himself as 'Terrific' as she does.

So, embrace conflict in your story in a way you don't in your real life. Don't steer your giant red cart in the opposite direction to avoid a messy confrontation. Put your characters through hell and love them enough to let them suffer and grow and change and come out on the other side as changed people. Your reader will thank you for it.

Friday, September 19, 2014

Over the past few weeks, I've had several conversations with
writing friends that seem to circle around the same topic: how to piece
together an artistic life and pay the bills at the same time.

Some of these friends are recent graduates from MFA programs
wondering what comes next, and some are working full-time "real"
jobs, desperate to get away. Some are
teaching and don't want to be. Some are scattering themselves hither and yon,
working multiple jobs and frantically seeking time to write.Some have completed novels and are looking at
next steps. All need to write. All need to pay bills on time.

I'm not sure there is an answer to this quandary. In our
American culture, our values line up with fiscal success over the creation of
art, literature, and music. Occasionally there is an exception, and an artist reaches the
pinnacles of popularity and riches, yet for every superstar author, musician, or
painter I would venture to say there are a thousand more producing a high
quality of work that goes unrecognized.

This week I took great pleasure in reading The Invention of Wings, by Sue Monk
Kidd.As I read her beautiful prose and
marveled at her insight, craft, and language, parts of me felt equally dejected and inspired.On one hand, I envied her
success and talent. On the other, I felt hopeful that one day I could produce a
novel that someone else could love, just as I loved this one. And then I came across this exchange
between the protagonist, Sarah Grimke, and Lucretia Mott, the well-known
abolitionist, suffragist, and social reformer.

'Why
would God plant such deep yearnings in us, if they only come to nothing?' It
was more a sigh than a question. I was thinking of Charlotte and her longing to
be free, but as the words left my mouth, I knew I was thinking of myself, too.

I
hadn't really expected Lucretia to respond, but after a moment, she spoke. 'God
fills us with all sorts of yearnings that go against the grain of the world—but
the fact those yearnings often come to nothing, well, I doubt that's God's
doing.' She cut her eyes at me. 'I think we know that's men's doing.'

She
leaned toward me. 'Life is arranged against us, Sarah. And it's brutally worse
for Handful and her mother and sister. We're all yearning for a wedge of sky,
aren't we? I suspect God plants these yearnings in us so we'll at least try and
change the course of things. We must try, that's all.'

I
felt her words tear a hole in the life I'd made. An irreparable hole.

Maybe that is why we continue to write when faced with financial
stress, unhappiness in our careers, and roadblock after roadblock. We're
designed to continue pushing toward our greatest desire. For the artist, the
financial payoff may not arrive in the way we hope or expect, but as we
continue to try, the artistic life can lead to other, unexpected riches. For
me, those riches have come in the friendships of like-minded people, the
satisfaction of living a life in line with my values, and the happiness found
in the act of writing alone. If one's goal in seeking the artistic life is
wealth and fame, great disappointment will most likely follow. There is no
failure in the act of creating and producing art. Yet to go against your own
heart's desires in order to conform to society's standards could be considered a failure, for certain.

All we can do is continue to try. Perhaps in the creation of art, it can be where we find our greatest joy.

Monday, September 15, 2014

A huge part of my college experience was participating in Forensics. Not dealing with dead bodies, but Speech and Debate. My favorite events, and the ones at which I most excelled, were under the umbrella of "Oral Interpretation"--basically taking poems and prose and plays and acting them with mostly my voice.

One of my favorite poems in four years of competition was Carl Sandburg's:

Little girl, be careful what you say when you make talk with words, words—for words are made of syllables and syllables, child, are made of air—and air is so thin—air is the breath of God—air is finer than fire or mist, finer than water or moonlight, finer than spider-webs in the moon, finer than water-flowers in the morning: and words are strong, too, stronger than rocks or steel stronger than potatoes, corn, fish, cattle, and soft, too, soft as little pigeon eggs, soft as the music of hummingbird wings. So, little girl, when you speak greetings, when you tell jokes, make wishes or prayers, be careful, be careless, be careful. be what you wish to be

This came to mind recently when I read a couple of articles about a debut novelist and her work. I'm not going to go into specifics or identify the writer or the novel, because I find that as uncool as what I felt the writer did. The book sounded great, challenging and with an engaging story and lovely prose. A winner, and I had in mind to get myself a copy when it hits the bookstores soon.

But then I saw another article, and in it, the writer made a comment that in my opinion called me boring. Me personally, and thinking about it, really almost everyone in my closest circles. No, she didn't actually say "You, Elizabeth Lynd, are not worth talking to," but she might as well have. Yowza.

What really bothered me is that the statement was more or less in self defense, and while I have no problem with that, there was no reason to then dismiss the population who had not shared the writer's experiences. What she said was akin to saying something like, if you have never eaten at a five star restaurant, you have no idea what good food tastes like. Really? When she could have just as easily said, if you have eaten at a five star restaurant, you almost certainly know what great food tastes like. Subtle, still gets the opinion across, and not offensive. If you've never had a child you have no idea what love is. Ouch. If you've had children, you definitely understand love. If you've never survived cancer, you don't understand the value of life. If you've survived cancer, you might have a stronger understanding of the value of life than before you were diagnosed. Et cetera.

I don't think the writer was trying to put anyone down. I think she was trying to explain her character, her book, and to a certain extent, herself, and make the point that adversity can create a better person. And I agree with that; but I don't agree that someone who is fortunate enough to traverse the planet less scathed than some of her sisters is somehow inferior.

It comes down to words. And as writers, we deal in words, the ones we write, and if we are very lucky, the ones we get to say when that writing is shared with the world. Sure, speaking is laden with opportunities for mistakes--my forensics career taught me that time and again--but we are writers, and we know words matter. The ones we write, and the ones we say. The ones that writer spoke cost her my buying her book, cost her me ever reading it probably. A small thing, but the opposite of what she was speaking out for in the first place.

As writers, we will hopefully be called to speak. When we do, we should take care. We should be what we wish to be.

Friday, September 12, 2014

A Holocaust survivor
works at the Oyster Bar, where a customer reminds him of his late mother…

A Hollywood
hopeful anticipates her first screen test and a chance at stardom in the
Kissing Room…

On any
particular day, thousands upon thousands of people pass through New York City’s
Grand Central Terminal, through the whispering gallery, beneath the ceiling of
stars, and past the information booth and its beckoning four-faced clock, to
whatever destination is calling them. It is a place where people come to say
hello and goodbye. And each person has a story to tell.

Now, ten
bestselling authors inspired by this iconic landmark have created their own
stories, set on the same day just after the end of World War II, in a time of
hope, uncertainty, change, and renewal…

I don’t
remember the last time I picked up an anthology of short stories, but this one
I could not resist. First off, look at that list of authors, several of whom
are among my favorites. Second, all the stories take place just after WWII,
which is a major selling point with me. Third, I’m in love with the cover.

Let’s talk
about that cover a moment, actually, because if a reader were to judge this
book solely on its cover, that person may be in for a disappointment. As the
title promises, there are love stories in this volume. Not all love stories end
well. There are also tales of reunion, though some reunions are more nightmare
than bliss.

Grand
Central is not a light read. This is a volume filled with stories that made me
swoon, filled me with rage, brought on tears, and made me want to reach into
the pages to alternately shake and hug a certain character who was about to put
herself and her child in terrible danger. (Erika Robuck, I’m looking at you.)

One of the
most wonderful things about this collection is that while all the stories could
stand on their own, this book was clearly a collaborative effort. That
violinist playing in Jenna Blum’s “The Lucky One?” The reader will recognize
Gregori from Alyson Richman’s “Going Home.” In Karen White’s “The Harvest
Season,” Ginny will see a young woman run through Grand Central calling out the
name David. The reader will know that is Ella from Pam Jenoff’s “Strand of
Pearls” and, like me, will likely pray she finds her David. Finding connections
between the stories became a fun game to play while I read and it certainly
kept me from setting the book down often.

Monday, September 8, 2014

I love when two unrelated incidents strike in a sort of
synchronicity. The first happened when my husband sent me an email with the
subject line: Awesomeness. It was a link to LifeHack.org, a cool site with
essays and tips on productivity, communication, lifestyle. I clicked and up popped a chart labeled “The Theory of Awesomeness.”

Reflective pool at the Winspear

A simplistic road map to life, the chart suggested that
many people chase the wrong goals, following “Brules” (bullshit rules) and
chasing money, instead of practicing “Blissipline” (the discipline of bliss) and working toward end goals. Be happy with where
you are, practice gratitude, visualize your future, follow your passion,
contribute, explore.

“Your true greatness will come when you focus on building a
life, not building a career.” This seemed the perfect advice to share with our
son, who in his senior year of college is trying to juggle studying and
organizational commitments with recruiting season, and becoming ever anxious about life after graduation.

The second random thing happened last week when I joined my
husband for a nighttime photo walk with photographer Trey Ratcliff. A Dallas native, Trey was a techie stuck in a cube, day after day, thinking of
what he would do with his hour lunch break or free hour at night. What
sandwich would he eat, which article would he read in this limited time? He went in search of a
creative outlet and is now a successful photographer, writer, speaker,
adventurer and blogger. He’s had numerous showings around the world and has
been featured on BBC and CBS, among others, and had the first HDR photo to hang
in the Smithsonian. Three years ago he relocated to New Zealand, where he’s in
the midst of beauty every day, all day. In Trey's view, no matter what your field, fit some form of creativity into your life, wherever you can.

Reflective man, corner of Flora and Olive

As he spoke, I remembered my first job out of college,
where I crunched numbers on a ten-key, recorded figures onto ledger paper and
prepared tax returns for high-net-worth clients. My desk held file-folders,
mechanical pencils, paper clips and those cool gummy erasers, which, to this
day, I find alarmingly satisfying. This was my life, but was it life? I often
stopped throughout the day to think about what types of cloud shapes were
floating above my Connecticut Avenue building, which leaves were oranging up
and twirling to the ground, which birds were charming their mates. On my lunch hour I spent my paycheck on a fleeting, stupidly expensive wardrobe, not realizing then the hours I was wasting, when I could have been hacking out a creative life.

Bell Tower, Guadalupe Cathedral

Whether you see the world through a photographic or a
literary lens, whether you record it with a pen or a paintbrush, you are
fostering beauty. Trey asked why we share what we write or paint or snap? He
suggested that we not seek recognition or affirmation from others, for if we find something
beautiful then it is. No, rather we share “to make the world more beautiful and
interesting.” To spread creativity. To practice Blissipline. I am grateful for clouds and leaves, for the Dallas art's district, for our philosophical son, for my husband, who sends me links to awesomeness and shares with me his creative
side.

Friday, September 5, 2014

As many of you know, I will be attending the Writer Unboxed Un-Conference in Salem, MA, this November. I am lucky to be able to swing the trip, but there are others who are not so fortunate. A group of women have banded together to try to help five incredibly deserving members of the Writer Unboxed community make it to the conference this year. Here is their story...

We
are a group of women writers who have come together to make it possible for
five women writers, who are also mothers with young children, to attend the
Writer Unboxed Un-Conference in Salem, Massachusetts, from November 3-7.
Without this fundraiser they (like many parent writers, but especially mothers)
would not be able to attend. They live in Australia, Spain, and states in
America far from Massachusetts, and will require planes and trains to get to
the venue. Our goal is to raise enough funds not only to cover travel expenses
but also registration, food and lodging, and, most important, child care while
these writers are away.

Our initial inspiration to come
together for this fundraiser was because we were so excited to meet these five
women who are as dear to us as we are to them. We have talked with them daily
online for over two years, been inspired by them, and impressed with their
dedication to publishing their work and their commitment to writing as a career.
When first one, then another, and then three more said the cost of travel and
everything involved in attending the event was beyond their financial scope
this year, we were dismayed. That’s when the idea of this fundraiser was born.

As writers we know the importance
of being able to leave the responsibilities of daily life behind for a short
while in order to write without distractions. The Writer Unboxed Un-Conference
in November will give our five sister writers that opportunity in spades. This
event is designed to maximize time to write every day for four days.

If you would like to help
five very deserving women make it to the Writer Unboxed Un-Conference, here are
a few simple ways to contribute.

Make a Donation

Pop on over to theWriterMamas GiveForwardpage and make a donation. Even if all
you can spare is $5, we would all appreciate it. Of course, you’re welcome
to donate more than $5. Any and all donations are gratefully accepted.

Buy cool Writer Unboxed merchandise

This fundraiser has inspired some of the most amazing
people to dive in and help. And so you can buy cool caps and T-shirts, and all
the profit goes helping our WriterMamas

Check out these greatbaseball caps,
available for a limited time for $30. You can get them in light pink/white, light sky/white, dark red/stone, olive/stone, navy/white, dark gray/stone, black/stone and chocolate/stone.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

It's no secret that I love to read. I've noticed over the
past few years that friends and family members often ask me for recommendations so I try to have a rolling list at the ready. I happily give books that I've loved to people without
expecting them back. I'll even drop much-loved books in the mail to friends
far away, just to insure they have no excuse not to read something fabulous. I
go to book signings and hoard my signed copies.

This summer, I returned from my MFA residency with six or
eight new books by our visiting writers and faculty. A month later, I went to Sewanee, and
came back with at least twenty signed books by people I'm now happy to call
friends. In addition, my required reading for my MFA has been an absolute joy,
and I'm reading and annotating at least twenty new books per year to complete
my degree requirements.

Today, I thought I'd pass on some short story collections,
and for my next post I'll share my latest novel finds. Here are the short stories I've been
reading, folks. Enjoy!

The Heaven of Animals,
by David James Poissant. Each story is gripping. Jamie is not only a great writer, but he's a terrific guy.

Stories, Volume I,
Anton Chekhov. You can't get through life claiming to be a reader without
diving in to Chekhov. Start with The Kiss.

The Boy With Fire in
his Mouth, by William Kelley Woolfitt. Will is someone to watch. This short
story collection won the Epiphany Editions Chapbook Contest and his
award-winning poetry collection, Beauty Strip, is forthcoming this year from
Texas Review Press.

Tenth Of December,
by George Saunders. I can't say it enough: I flipping love George Saunders.
This collection won the Folio Prize, and has been called his "Victory
Lap." It is a masterpiece of a collection.

Dear Life, by
Alice Munro. What to say about Munro? She's a titan, and just won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2013. My favorite in this collection is Corrie.

A Haunted House and
Other Short Stories, by Virginia Woolf. The classic master of the novel also wrote some compelling short stories. This collection was published posthumously-- some completely edited by her and some in a rougher form. Fascinating.

Reasons to Live,
by Amy Hempel. The contemporary master of the short story-- and you can't get through a workshop, conference or MFA program without studying her work. Start with In The Cemetery Where Al Jolson Is Buried, her first, and perhaps most well-known piece.

My Escapee, by
Corinna Vallianatos. My friend and mentor, and the winner of the Grace Paley
Prize for Short Fiction.

Starting Over, by
Elizabeth Spencer. Written and published this year, when she was 92 years old. Read it for that reason,
alone.

Going Away Shoes,
by Jill McCorkle. Another friend and mentor. I adore this collection, and I adore Jill.

When You Find Us We
Will Be Gone, by Christopher Linforth. Christopher and I workshopped together at Sewanee, and he's definitely a rising talent besides being an overall great guy. This collection was just released August 30 (last week!) so pick it up today!

If you don't want to dive into short story collections or purchase a stack this tall, always know you can find some great short stories online, in literary journals, and in anthologies. And as a tiny shameless plug, you can find one of mine, right here: The Shasta, published in August, 2014, by Drafthorse Literary Journal. Enjoy.

Monday, September 1, 2014

The U.S. Congress made Labor Day an official federal holiday in June of 1894. It's meant many things to many people over the years. Over time, it's become less about recognizing the hard work that bolstered our country during the Industrial Revolution when the idea of a day to honor that work began gaining steam, and more about a day of relaxation and a break from the mail. More about putting away the white shoes and pulling out the pencil case and maybe less about parades featuring proud carpenters and plumbers marching through hometowns.

But this Labor Day, take a moment to pause and consider the hard work that still goes into making our country buzz and hum, what gets it dirty and makes it clean again.

For writers, labor rarely means actual sweat (though it certainly involves plenty of tears), but it's good to remember that what we do is indeed work. Work is serious, should be taken seriously, and done well, provides a satisfaction not found elsewhere in life.

This Labor Day, take a moment to pause and consider what it is you do, why you do it, why you continue. Take a moment to consider what others do for you, through sweat and heft both of the body and brain. Take a moment to enjoy the fact that we live in a country that can and should and hopefully does celebrate the hard work of all of its citizens, those who haul the trash and create the roads and feed and clothe and house and entertain us.

This Labor Day, take a moment to rest and enjoy, and take a moment to remember it's our work that propels us on, all of us, that it's our labor that makes us great.